


Never Too Late

by SeraphHT



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24467188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphHT/pseuds/SeraphHT
Summary: Dead Sea disagrees that kissing is one of the best simple pleasures in life. The Courier tries to change his mind. (A fill for the kinkmeme)
Relationships: Male Courier/Dead Sea
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13





	Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my fills I'm salvaging from the kinkmeme. Hope you enjoy.

Just because Dead Sea respected the man, didn’t mean he didn’t hate his guts, too.  
  
The Courier was more intelligent and skilled than any three of his men combined, and for that, Dead Sea was part relieved that he was on their side. It had been six weeks since the NCR camp had been single-handedly cleared out, but the other kept coming back to Nelson as if just to show his face around.  
  
And never mind the fact that for a profligate, his knowledge was abundant and always roped Dead Sea in for conversation, and those usually ended up with him being so impressed with the Courier that he was glad his face was covered, else the other put on another one of his charming, yet irritating, self-indulgent smirks that somehow irrationally makes Dead Sea want to put someone on a cross.  
  
They were in the sniper’s nest, overlooking the empty endless valley of the Mojave. A small sandstorm ravaged in the distance, shadows of critters moving about in the blizzard. They had talked for some time, snarky comments in reply to the Courier’s pointless flirting, and somehow he couldn’t remember how they even started talking about the subject.  
  
“So you don’t know what a kiss is?”  
  
Dead Sea glanced at the other’s face. Round chestnut eyes glinted with amusement, one edge of the mouth curled upwards. There was no denying that the other was startlingly attractive. That fact just made it all the more infuriating.  
  
“Of course I do,” Dead Sea said distastefully, as though the thought of him not knowing anything was preposterous. “I’ve seen others do so.”  
  
“Ah…but have you kissed anybody before?”  
  
He took some time formulating an answer. “What benefit does it serve, besides wasting time?”  
  
“It’s fun,” was the simple answer.  
  
“You profligates find pleasure in the most useless of things,” he scoffed.  
  
He was acutely aware of how the Courier gave him a once-over. “Spoken truly like a person who has never kissed before.”  
  
Dead Sea looked back at him, only to see the other drawing near. He didn’t really react until he realized the Courier wasn’t stopping. “What are you doing?” he peered suspiciously from behind his eyepiece, wanting to take a step back, but part of him too dignified to do so.  
  
He flinched when the other gingerly raised a hand and hooked a finger on the scarf covering the half of his face. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you without this mask,” the Courier whispered, his voice dropping half an octave, which was enough to make Dead Sea’s blood rush.

He pulled on the face-cover lightly, the other hand reaching up. Dead Sea almost shied away from the rough, warm palm that swept upwards, pushing his headdress back from his head, massaging his scalp along the way. At the same time, he felt the arid air against his face and blinked to adjust to the brightness, as the scarf was gently peeled away and the eyepiece removed.  
  
Some part of him was screaming at him to get the hell away, only because his soldiers were just a few feet below patrolling the camp. But he didn’t move, instead suddenly felt self-conscious as the other scanned his facial features.  
  
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Courier,” he said, quietly. It had meant to sound like a warning, but with the way the other’s thumb touched his lips, Dead Sea was distracted.  
  
“It’s Damien,” the other reminded, smirking. “And quite the contrary. I know exactly what I’m doing.”  
  
The hand rested against the back of his neck as Damien’s head dived for the other’s neck, and Dead Sea half braced himself for a bite, because that was what he always did during sex. He definitely wasn’t expecting the soft rasp of lips against sensitive skin, travelling upwards, to the crook of his neck and to outline the angle of his jaw.   
  
So tender, it was a blow of a different kind. The exact opposite of a punch.  
  
Moments later, Damien pulled back and smiled. “Kissing doesn’t just have to be on the mouth,” he said. Must have noticed how the other was as stiff as a statue.  
  
“I…see,” was really all he could think to say, before Damien leaned in again to press his lips against his own.  
  
The soft pressure at such a delicate area was foreign, to say the least. It wasn’t bad. There definitely wasn’t anything bad with the prick of Damien’s stubble on his cheek, the lingering smell of desert and battle, the heat of a powerful body so close.   
  
Dead Sea didn’t realize how dry his lips were until he felt the other’s tongue licking along them, slightly sticky as though wetting paper. Fingers caressing the back of his neck sent enough goose-bumps down his back for him to pause, which provided enough time for the other to push his tongue into the other’s mouth.  
  
The startled gasp was drowned in contact, the sound of Damien breathing out coupled with the feel of hot air against his face sent electricity jolting throughout the other’s body. He could feel the irregular texture of the other’s lips, from the thin scar that cut vertically across. There was something strangely erotic in the way he could map the other’s surface by touch.  
  
Then Damien muttered against his skin: “I’m not kissing a doll, am I?”  
  
The look on Dead Sea’s face was indignant. “What—“  
  
“You can start by moving your lips,” he chuckled, a low pleasant sound from deep within his chest.  
  
“You are already doing that.”  
  
“Kissing is just like sex,” he murmured, a finger idly tracing circles under the jaw. Dead Sea just about managed to conceal the shiver running down his spine from sheer arousal, from the way he said the word, as Damien smiled. “Both partners give and take.”  
  
Their lips met again and he couldn’t help but lift a palm to hold onto the Courier’s wrist, whose hand still firmly held his neck and chin, the other finding his hip as he came closer, closing the distance between their bodies, his back hitting the wooden balcony as they did so.

Heat was pooling at the bottom of his stomach as he sought to find sync with the other’s mouth, but his mind was more occupied with stifling the soft hisses and groans, the task getting increasingly difficult with the other’s palm roaming everywhere, the tongue sliding against his own, the heat in his mouth and body.  
  
Eventually his patience depleted and Dead Sea growled mid-kiss, his hands finding the other’s waist, struggling with the belt.  
  
“No, you can’t have me that easy,” Damien sang, face just inches away, but from the huskiness of his voice, he knew he was just as turned on as he was. “…everybody’s watching.”  
  
Dead Sea looked down from the corner of his eyes, to see a few of his soldiers turn away, embarrassed, and trying too hard to look as though they noticed nothing.  
  
Damien took a few steps back, the maddening smirk taking its place on his handsome countenance once more. “Don’t worry, at least they know you’ve learnt something they’re not so good at,” he said nonchalantly, in a ‘look-on-the-bright-side’ tone.  
  
The other sneered, and Damien laughed, placing the cowboy’s hat back on his head as he began to leave. “That’s it for today. I’ll be back by the end of the week.”  
  
“ _Today_?” Dead Sea repeated, raising a brow at what it implied.  
  
Damien only winked in response, before turning back round to continue down the ramp.  
  
Dead Sea didn’t watch him go, instead stared back out at the horizon as he fixed on his headdress, and eyepiece, and face-cover. All the while ignoring the taste of the Courier on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and do leave kudos.


End file.
